Known by the One Who Spoke the Sun

The sun is up, but your phone screen feels colder than the night that just passed. You watched the notifications pile up for someone else, a cascade of names and hearts, while your own timeline stayed silent.

It is a specific kind of morning ache to realize your name did not cross their minds. The world is moving fast now, filling the air with noise and movement, but you are standing still in the quiet of being overlooked.

The light does not scan the crowd to see who got the most attention. It sees the one standing in the shadow of the feed.

The dawn arrived for you just as surely as it did for them. Not because you were remembered by many, but because you are known by the One who spoke the sun into existence.

You are not invisible just because the scroll moved on. The light sees you fully, even when the world looks right through you.